


New Neighbors

by Lady_of_Glass_and_Bone



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Animal Death, Blood, Drabble, F/M, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Just Add Kittens, Minor Injuries, My First Fanfic, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Original Character(s), Spiders, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-08 20:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10394943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Glass_and_Bone/pseuds/Lady_of_Glass_and_Bone
Summary: Arachnid [uh-rak-nid]noun:any wingless,carnivorous arthropod of the class Arachnida, including spiders, scorpions, mites, ticks, and daddy-longlegs, having a body divided into two parts, the cephalothorax and the abdomen, and having eight appendages and no antennae.B is just trying to relax and decompress after returning home from a family camping trip.Her new neighbor has apparently decided to wage war on an innocent arachnid. He also turns out to kinda sorta be BUCKY BARNES.(This isn't my first time writing fanfic but it's my first time sharing it.) I might do more one-shots with this OC.





	1. Weird Euphemisms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachnid [uh-rak-nid] noun:any wingless,carnivorous arthropod of the class Arachnida, including spiders, scorpions, mites, ticks, and daddy-longlegs, having a body divided into two parts, the cephalothorax and the abdomen, and having eight appendages and no antennae.
> 
>  
> 
> B is just trying to relax and decompress after returning home from a family camping trip.  
> Her new neighbor has apparently decided to wage war on an innocent arachnid. He also turns out to kinda sorta be BUCKY BARNES.
> 
>  
> 
> (This isn't my first time writing fanfic but it's my first time sharing it.) I might do more one-shots with this OC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote some other stuff at the bottom of the page about what I wrote in the middle of the page. I don't mind critiques(please be nice). Sorry if my grammar and stuff is shit,I've been out of school too long. Not that I wrote any better while I was in school.
> 
> Whatever is written in italics is B's thoughts.

The first noise B hears barely even registers. Unpacking after a long trip is a task that garners her full attention,always has. It's like putting on blinders and everything has to go back in it's place before her field of vision is totally restored. The dirty clothes go first,having been stuffed into a plastic bag for travel until a washing machine could be reached. They meet up with the beach towel and washcloths in the laundry basket,faint smells of pond water and sunscreen mingling with less body odors.

She pulls out the rest of her clothes,the ones not dirty enough for a wash and tosses them across available surfaces around the bedroom. She stops at her hoodie,pulls it back up to her nose and grabs a breath of memories from the scent.

Campfires,fingers sticky with marshmallow,kids up way past bed-time and. . . There isn't a feeling she can put to it,just images. Sitting around the bonfire under a wave of stars and listening to generations of family talk and laugh. Smiling,just a little,she thinks it was definitely worth going this year and drops the hoodie on the bed, still in reach,and gets drawn back to unpacking.

Her tablet goes on the nightstand with the phone,Ipod,and medicine case. Blankets go on the bed. Sleeping bag in the closet. Tent under the bed. Shampoo and soap and face wash and razor are stacked into the shower. Toothbrush on the counter. Toothpaste beside it.

Slowly,things are put back inside the lines of her vision where they belong,where they make her comfortable and she can tug off the heel of one shoe with the toe of the other and vice versa and put them next to the rest. Eventually,the the rest of the apartment opens up to her and she lays herself out on the couch. Her hair feels greasy and stiff in the ponytail,the bottoms of her feet are tough with dirt and grass stains and the ache of camping still tugs at her muscles but stretching out on the couch for a while in the relative quiet is better than the idea of showering for the moment.

Because that would require standing and movement.

Though the city outside isn't exactly quiet it's a buzz,part of the scenery by now. The large scuffle and thump from next door,however,is not and it makes her jump.

"New neighbors," she breathes,forcing her muscles to uncoil. Nothing wrong.

But an even louder thump,bordering on a bang,shatters all plans of relaxing and she sits up. Glaring at the far wall of her kitchen,on the other side of which is the source of her unease. It's calm for a length a time until a series of what sounds like muffled curses comes through. She considers escaping to the shower to avoid any future guilt.

_'No officer,I didn't hear much,I was in the shower,showering and whatnot.'_

That bridge to freedom rots away at the sound of a shout,an actual yell. She's halfway to the door when the hesitation sets itself upon her.

_'What if it's nothing and you're rushing over like a crazy person for nothing?'_

She frowns at the doorknob,worrying the hem of her tank top between fingertips.

_'What are they gonna think,B? She's fucking weird,that's what. Knocking on peoples doors for no reason and shit.'_

A new sound carries over,harsh and foreign. A different language?

_'What if they don't speak English? How would you explain yourself? You wouldn't be able to, you'd just be stuck there looking like a creep,your metaphorical dick in your metaphorical hand!'_

"Fuckin' spiders!," the voice next door says,just loud enough to raise her hackles.

"Don't you dare!," she yells,octaves higher than anyone in the building has probably ever heard and swings open her door,darting out and to the left. Barefoot,slightly grimey,and frantic,she smashes her knuckles on the wood paneling of number C11 over and over.

_'Don't kill it,don't kill it,please don't kill it.'_   More foreign words. _'Swearing B,swearing has a universal tone.'_

Then the door disappears,sweeps in and reveals a frazzled looking man holding a broom and-

Captain America's shield?

_'Later,worry about that later.'_

"Did you kill it?!," she sounds louder than she needs to,even to herself,and tries not to backdown.

_'You started this B, finish it.'_

"What?," the man shakes his head,dark brown hair waving around his scrunched face.

"The spider! Did you kill it?," she's bouncing on her bare feet now,wringing her hands with a dull ache in her stomach.

"Wha-No! I can't find the fucking thing! It was on the wall and then it-,"

"Can I get it? I promise this is not something I do and I understand completely if you want to kill it,it is in YOUR apartment but I swear I'll get it out."

The man seems shocked,then suspiscious,then kind of relieved. Then puzzled.

"You want to get the spider out of my apartment?," he questions,standing a bit straighter, lowering the shield( _It's a replica,has to be_ ) and lets his blue eyes wander down to the girls bare feet. Tan,kinda dirty.

"That sounds like a terrible euphemism for something really weird," she blurts out and her cheeks gently turn pink at her own words and her shoulders tense. She follows up in a timid voice with,

"I'm B,your neighbor."

"Yeah," he sizes B up one last time,tries not to smirk at the colored tinge of her face or at the fact that her green eyes keep darting to Steve's shield.

"Okay."

"Really? Oh. Uh,do you have a plastic cup and a plate?," she's suddenly rooted to the spot because who the hell actually lets a person they don't know into their place to collect a spider?

"I'll check,here," he holds out the shield to her,completely aware of what he's doing,and lets go of it when she's got a good grip on either edge of it. The whole thing covers her torso and if it weren't for the straps on her tank top she could be naked behind it.

_'OH MY GOD. THIS IS ACTUALLY CAPTAIN AMERICA'S SHIELD. DON'T PANIC,DON'T PANIC, BREATHE.'_

B,still awkwardly clinging to the shield,follows the man into a mirror image of her apartment,hefting the metal( _IT'S VIBRANIUM_ )disc up into a better grip to turn it around and find the handle. She's slips her arm in and gets a better grip because it's kinda heavy and holy crap. She's holding the shield that's fought everything from Nazi's to aliens.

"I have this and this," the man,when she looks up from the shield,is holding out a plain glass cup and a plastic plate.

_'Bucky,it's probably Bucky and you are most absolutely holding Captain America's shield. BREATHE.'_

"Thanks," B manages,dry lips sticking together just a bit. She takes the cup with one shaky hand and awkwardly holds out the shield so he can take it back with an arm that is most assuredly metal,though the long sleeve of his shirt covers it. She grabs the plate to finish off the unusual exchange.

"Which wall was it on?," the words come out muted,more her usual tone.

"Uh,that one,by the far windows," Bucky points out with his right hand but doesn't move,eyeing the other side of the apartment with a very distrustful look.

"Seriously," she deadpans ",it's a spider."

"It was a big frickin' spider! One a' those big hairy ones that crawl around like they own the place,"

"Was it's name Aragog?"

He looks over at B,mouth open to quip back but he shuts it at the look she's got. Not so much nervousness now,just shy. But she's poking fun at him,just a little.

"Is that a Lord of the Rings thing?," he asks and B is pretty sure he's serious so she keeps her voice level. And makes a point to call her sister immediately after this.

"That's Aragorn. Who is not a spider," she tacks on the last bit before walking over into the Spider-Zone,head tilting up and around in search of the thing. Bucky's pretty sure there's a bit of confidence in her stride.

He stays firmly planted within stepping distance of the open door though, watching the girl, B, who's about 5 foot 3,stretch up on her toes and crane her neck to inspect every inch she can. He'd be smiling if he wasn't waiting for the inevitable jump and scream when she finds the eight-legged freak. He tenses' up a bit when,shifting on his feet so he can watch, as she crouches down near the TV and then gets on her knees to hunch over so he can only see her from the torso down. Her frayed jean shorts ride up just a bit on her thighs,revealing more pronounced lines of scarring.

He had observed the thick,pale slashes on her right thigh while she was ogling the shield but ignored them. Now,he can see one looks like the flat of a blade was impressed upon her skin,burned.

The big hairy spider turns out to be less Aragog-sized and more the size of a dime,though it's legs give it most of it's width. The eight legs skitter around when the cup closes down over it and it goes easy enough as she scoots it onto the plate,giving it no chance of escape.

"So," Bucky says,watching the encapsulated intruder being carted toward the door.

"Sooo," B mimics,giving him a wide berth on her way out,hands clamped on the cup-plate prison in her hands. She barely hears him follow behind her,swinging the door shut,and has to glance over her shoulder just to check that he's really there.

"I'm Bucky,by the way," he calls from a few steps away.

"I kinda figured that," she smirks,ducking down to press the call button with her elbow as she reaches it. Then she smiles when she sees how Bucky stands determinedly on the opposite edge of the elevator doors,hands tucked in his pockets.

"The shield?," he guesses.

"Yeah,kinda," B nods and when the doors slide open,Bucky lets her in first and takes up an opposing corner of the space "And thanks for letting me hold it by the way,the shield,I'm probably gonna have to process this whole. . .thing later."

She realizes that might sound somewhat obsessive about two seconds after it comes out and sinks a little bit further against the wall,looking down at the spider as it crawls up the side of the glass,towards one of her fingers. She twitches it back and forth and the spider freezes. It's bigger than an average house spider,reddish brown and she can kinda see how it would freak someone out. Then it's front legs move,turning itself a touch and she smiles. It's more beautiful to her than scary.

"I'm pretty sure it's plotting your demise,right now," Bucky says,just a bit confused as to how his new neighbor can smile at a spider.

"Oh,absolutely," she rolls her eyes,pulling the cup and plate closer to herself when the doors open and quirks her mouth a hint as she walks passed him.

The building has a small patch of grass,a few trees, and bench beside it where a few of the older residents sit on the nicer days. Today is hotter,being in the dead of summer,so they are the only two there when they reach the shade of one tree.

"Okay,where should I put you," B says,mostly to herself,scanning a few of the branches until she finds one low enough to reach.

Bucky watches,again from a safe distance,as this barefoot,spider catching neighbor of his gently taps and shakes the cup until the spider is now on the plate and then lifts away the glass,holding it out to him blindly.

"Here," she says gently and he lunges out to grab it before she drops it,still focused on the creature stirring around on the plate.

And it's somehow enthralling to watch,if he's being honest,as B reaches up to pull down a branch so she can offer it up to the spider as a means of escape. Apparently it's become attached to her because those eight hairy legs carry it swiftly across the plate toward where her fingers are curled over the edge,and onto them. She hisses in a deep breath and freezes.

_'Stay calm,no sudden movements,no flailing or screaming.'_

There's a distinct sound of glass shattering but she doesn't turn around,doesn't look away from the spider perched on her thumb.

"Hey Bucky?,"

"Yeah?," his reply is understandably strained. She's pretty sure he crushed the glass he was holding.

"Could you come take this plate? Please?,"

"Sure that's a good idea,Doll?,"

"It's an excellent idea,Bucky."

She doesn't mean to snap at him but she's precisely ten seconds from a complete physical freakout because as cool and important as spiders are she hadn't planned on one crawling ON her today. Thankfully,he does step up beside her and grabs the edge of the plate to slip it from her left hand.

He also takes hold of the branch for her,bringing it down more as she lifts her hand until they meet in the middle. B tugs off a leaf to use as a brush and slowly nudges the spider off and onto the branch, neither of them breathing until she gives Bucky a nod and he lets the branch ascend up to it's original place. He looks back down to find her watching him,lips pressed into a tight line,like she want's to laugh or scream.

So he smiles,hoping it'll break whatever bad feeling that's settled over her. B lets out a deep breath,relaxing.

_'Who wouldn't relax with Bucky Barnes smiling at them like that?'_

"Bucky,what are you doing?" Steve's voice promptly breaks the silence,creating a simultaneous reaction of B jumping away from Bucky like a cat that's been doused in water as he yells

"Damn it,Steve!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> B is basically me. I have a weird thing about the way I unpack after a trip and my preferred method of spider disposal is the Catch and Release method. Basically, I just wanted something where a totally capable and trained assassin/soldier is scared of spiders (even though Bucky probably wouldn't be because he's BUCKY and he's been through some stuff) and someone considerably less intimidating comes in and is like 'DON'T YOU DARE SQUISH THAT PRECIOUS LITTLE SPIDER I'll take care of it,no probs.'  
> I thought about requesting a fic but my anxiety was like 'NOPE. Just write it yourself that will be MUCH more stressful and potentially embarrassing.' So. Yeah.
> 
> And I didn't plan on Bucky wielding a broom and Steve's shield upon opening the door,it kind of snuck up on me and I got a good chuckle out of the mental image.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> ~LadyofGlassandBone


	2. The Reproductive Cycle of Seahorses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seahorses/Scientific name: Hippocampus /Type: Fish /Diet: Carnivores /Group Name: Herd  
> Average Life Span In The Wild: 1 to 5 years /Average life span in Captivity: Up to 5 years /Size: 0.6 to 14 in  
> Found in shallow tropical and temperate waters throughout the world. Upright swimmers. Relatives of the pipefish.  
> Unlike most fish,they are monogamous and mate for life.
> 
> The spider is out of the apartment. B still doesn't have her shoes on. Bucky finds his new neighbor as perplexing as ever. And B finally gets to chat with her sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have sort of an idea of when this takes place in the MCU timeline(thought isn't really canon compliant anyway). It's obviously after CA:TWS but before Age of Ultron.
> 
> This is a direct continuation of ch1.

"Damn it Steve!"

"What!," Steve shouts back, watching in confusion as his best friend turns around to stare at him as if he's done something horrible,like kicked a puppy,while the girl beside Buck shakes her arms out and brushes her hands off on her sides.

"A little warning next time would ya!," Bucky waves his own arms about,a plate in one hand.

"Warning for what? You were standin' outside,next to a tree,doing nothing," Steve shrugs, totally at a loss.

"We were releasing Aragorn," Bucky says and motions with the plate back at the tree, as if that clears it all up.

"Aragog," the girl sighs,hands on her hips,voice jittery "Hagrid's Acromantula's name was Aragog.''

"So it's from Harry Potter?," Bucky turns to her,a hopeful look on his face that makes her laugh. She nods.

"Alright,who is Aragog and why did he need releasing?," Steve strides onto the grass,scanning the area,looking for anything that could potentially be 'Aragog.'

"The spider that scared your friend here," the girl smiles,sidling up to nudge Bucky's arm with her elbow,at which he frowns.

"Surprised me," Bucky corrects firmly.

"Ahhh,okay,I see," she crosses her arms,nodding "so you were so surprised that you felt the need to grab a broom and Captain America's shield?."

"Really?," Steve chuckles,the full picture beginning to take shape. He lifts his eyebrows as he looks at Bucky for confirmation.

"Not a word,Punk," he warns. Steve puts up his hands in surrender then looks down at the brown haired girl beside Bucky.

"I'm B,I live in C10," she rasps out because it's suddenly sunk in who exactly is standing in front of her. Unconsciously,she hunches in on herself.

_CaptainAmericaohmygodholyshitit'sCAPTAINAMERICA.'_

"Steve," he holds out his hand,happy smile spread across his face. B thrusts out her hand to meet his and it's all but swallowed up by Steve's larger one.

"I, um, I just got back from a camping trip. So that's why we haven't met before," she offers a close mouthed smile and tugs at the hem of her shirt,shifting her weight from foot to foot, then takes a step away from them.

"So,I should probably go,I have to-fucking motherfu-!," she bites off the string of curses with a hiss,pain lancing across the bottom of her foot as she yanks it away,limping back from the pile of glass that used to be a cup.

"Shit,I forgot about the glass, B, I'm sorry" Bucky apologizes,reaching out a hand for her as she teeters on her uninjured foot. Then almost snatches it back because it's his metal hand. She only cut her foot open because he'd gripped the cup a little too hard in that hand.

"It's fine," she grabs his forearm,a hitch in her breath, before he can take his arm back and brings her foot up to rest against her opposite thigh. It's bleeding pretty nicely from several slices,some of which have glass in them.

"I'm the one walking around without shoes,keep forgetting I'm not at home," she says,the last part more to herself,then looks up at Bucky to see the guilt that tints his blue eyes.

"It's fine,promise. An accident," she makes sure he's looking at her,to make sure he understands that she honestly doesn't blame him.

"That looks pretty deep," Steve injects,leaning down to inspect the wound. Sparing the broken glass a curious glance but decides he'll ask later.

"Yeah,you might need stitches,Doll," Bucky worries,his face silently apologetic "do you need a ride to the hospital or can you call someone-?"

"No,no,I can't really-it'll be fine,it's not THAT bad," she insists,reaching a hand down toward one of the pieces of glass,face scrunched,and attempts to pull it out.

"B," Steve crouches down,reaching out to grab her wrist,halting her hand "I think it'd be better to clean up your foot inside."

"Oh,yeah,sorry," she shakes her head and Steve releases her wrist,standing back up.

"I'm sure we've got a good enough first-aid kit to fix it up," he offers. She nods,voice lost somewhere in the back of her mind.

"I'll go get it,can you bring her in Buck?," Steve puts his hand on Bucky's shoulder and he turns only briefly to nod and mumble a 'yeah,sure,' before the blond figure of freedom lopes off toward the building entrance.

"You guys really don't have-"

"It's no problem Doll," Bucky cuts in,trying out a smile he hasn't used in years(70 at least )and it seems to backfire,just a hair. Her eyes don't widen and she doesn't smack him. She just stares,like someone just handed her a million bucks right outta the blue.

"O-Okay," she stutters,pushing the words out of her mouth. She feels like someone short circuited her brain because there's no way someone like BUCKY just looked at someone like HER with a smile like THAT. And he'd called her Doll. For like,the third time.

_'Answer him stupid,he just asked you a question. NO ZONING OUT.'_

"What?"

"Can you walk or should I carry ya?"

"Huh? No,it's not bad,I've done much worse," she tries to convince him,finally letting her foot slide all the way off her thigh but doesn't put any weight on it, and adjusts her grip on his arm. She hasn't mentioned the metallic feel.

"You have glass in your foot," Bucky deadpans,stepping forward,leaning in like he's going to do what she really hopes he isn't.

She knows she has glass in her foot,if she wiggles her toes she can feel it shift around and send fingers of pain scratching up her ankle and leg. But she really doesn't do well when people-

"Bucky!," his name leaves her like someones punched it out. She's up in his arms,full on Bridal Style,one arm is all the way around her rib cage while the other one is hooked under her knees. The cool metal palm covers a good span of her thigh,near her scars.

"Sorry," he starts toward the door,looking straight ahead "figured you woulda' tried to walk no matter what."

"You owe me ice cream," she tells him through thin lips,mostly unaware that her hand at his nape is curling half in his shirt and half in his hair.

"S'that so?," he tightens his grip on her as he takes the front steps two at a time and B's muscles lock up.

"I vacated your apartment of a spider," she reminds him grumpily.

 "I had that under control," Bucky stops with the front door half pushed in,to observe her for a few moments before,

"Fine,I'll buy you ice cream," he concedes and continues in and over to the elevator where he ducks down so B can press the call button.

Waiting for the elevator,B realizes she's three days past a shower that didn't include baby wipes,pond water,and a bucket. That her legs are very unevenly shaved,her face is slightly sunburned from that one day she forgot sunscreen and she's being carried by a man.  
Never mind the fact that it's James Buchanan Barnes,but just a man in general. A good looking one.

_'How did you get here B?'_

The doors slide open and Bucky steps in,careful of her foot and again,B presses the correct button for him. She the avoids looking at him,opting to inspect her fingernails,quietly panicking.

_'How on Earth did you start your day packing up a tent in the mud and eating lunch at Burger King with your family and end it with two,count 'em TWO,people you use to read about in your history book as a kid?'_

She looks away from her chipped nail polish and up to Bucky. Then at the wall. Tries not to freak out and throw herself from his arms. She thinks of the bullfrogs at the pond and the cattails they hide in,grouped together and waving in the wind. Like corn. Miles and miles of cornfields that remind her of home and the sound they make when they brush against one another.

"Did you know a group of frogs is called an army?" she blurts out,unable to stop the word vomit.

"What?," Bucky looks down at her but she's boring holes into the wall to his right.

"And a group of toads is called a knot," she goes on.

"Got any other useless facts?," he smirks. The doors pull open and he steps out.

"Not useless," she informs him "rats laugh."

"Bullshit," his eyes snap to hers and she rolls hers.

"Look it up online."

"I will,got any more?"

"Seahorse mates hold on to each others tails when they travel."

"That's. . .kind of adorable," Bucky admits.

"And the males give birth," she tells him this purely to see his reaction.

 He stops dead in the middle of the hall,stares ahead silently for one,two,three-

"You're gonna have to explain that one,Doll," Bucky turns his attention onto her,watching her cheeks flush. B wishes she'd never mentioned seahorses at all. He doesn't start walking again.

_'Great B,you're stuck between explain the seahorses' reproductive cycle or bleeding to death from you foot. It's just an A+ kinda day.'_

"Uh,okay,so,the male seahorse has a pouch on the ventral-," he bunches his brow at the word "the front-facing side and when they mate,the female deposits her eggs into his pouch,where the male internally fertilizes them. He carries them until they hatch. And out come fully formed, itty bitty seahorses."

"Alright then," he nods, clears his throat some, and his eyes dart away to look at the door numbers before they land back on her.

"You asked," she says,a reassuring smile aimed at him.

"Yeah,it's not that,it's just-," he starts but shakes his head at her,concentrating on something she can't quite grasp a hold of.

He just watches her,standing in front of his apartment door,trying to unravel her with the list of things he's compiled.

Not afraid of spiders. Goes camping. Prefers to be barefoot. Has a fairly unusual level of pain tolerance. Shy. Knows things about animals. Likes ice cream. Has scars. On her right forearm,from nearly wrist to elbow. The left corner of her bottom lip boasts a single,vertical hash. A series of small,faded,round ones on her right bicep. And right in the middle of her chest is a tiny circle of scar tissue.

"Bucky?"

"Yeah?"

"My foot is still bleeding."

"Shit. Sorry," he hefts her up a little,making B frown,her fingers tightening in the collar of his shirt.

"Hey Punk,open up!," he hollers at the door and less than a second later Steve appears sporting a magnificent surly dad face.

"What?," Bucky shrugs and B can feel the muscles in his shoulders shift,notices the soft whirring sound of what must be his arm. Steve just steps aside,letting out a breath through his nose.

The first-aid kit spread open on the coffee table is far more impressive than the one B has stuffed under her bathroom sink. Her own consists of cotton balls,peroxide,Neosporin,and band-aids that she's pretty sure have SpongeBob Squarepants on them.

Bucky sets her on the couch and takes a spot opposite her on the table,pulling her foot up onto his leg. She cringes when it leaves a smear of blood on the denim of his pants. He doesn't even notice.  
As Bucky inspect her foot,accepting a wet cloth from Steve to wipe away the blood,B has a moment to take in what is happening.

"I'm gonna have to call my sister," she announces and both super soldiers look over to her.

"Why,did you want her to-?,'' Steve tries to ask.

"My nieces aren't gonna believe me if I tell them I met you guys,I need proof," her fingers twitch. Her phone is in her purse,in her apartment.

"They big fans of the Captain?," Bucky smirks,turning back to her wound.

"Yeah," she says and looks right at Bucky "you too,the youngest always asked about you when I would read them stuff about the Howling Commandos. Uh,sorry,that sounds weird,I just really liked history."

"No,that's-," Bucky clears his throat,emotions bouncing between gratitude and shame "it's fine."

"Yeah," Steve fills in the gap "it's good to know history is being passed down."

Bucky nods but he's pouring all his focus onto the cuts on the sole of B's foot,some still oozing blood onto the surface around it that's already crusted the color of rust brown. He grabs a pair of tweezers from the kit and begins pulling free any glass that's left,perfectly aware of how intensely the other two occupants of the room are watching him.  
Bucky pulls out one of the larger hunks of glass,causing to B flinch,and he looks up at her with a sympathetic smile that flickers away into a smirk she finds oddly suspicious, and says,

"Hey Steve,did you know that male seahorses give birth?"

B's head drops back onto the couch with a deep sigh and she almost regrets the fact that she didn't get in the shower and ignore her new neighbors when she had the chance.

But if she's being honest,she really doesn't.

 

             Thursday  24  8:17 pm  
B: you are not going to believe who my new neighbors are  
**Lorraine: they move in while you were away?**  
B:yes but thats not the point. GUESS WHO.  
**Lorraine: no**  
**Lorraine: i'm tired &sticky&still helping mom&dad unpack. just tell me**  
B:sorry  
B: it's STEVE ROGERS&BUCKY BARNES  
**Lorraine: EXCUSE ME?!!!**  
**Lorraine: ru messing with me B u better not be**  
B: totally serious  
**Lorraine: wait. how do u know it's them. did you MEET them?**  
B: yes long story. but I ended up cutting my foot on broken glass &they patched it up for me  
**Lorraine: why was there broken glass?! nobody tried 2 kill u did they? r u hurt anywhere else? where r u now?**  
B: long story. no one tried to kill me. I AM FINE. im @home now.  
**Lorraine: not helpful!!!!!!!!**  
B: barnes was LOUDLY trying 2 kill a spider so i had to rescue it  
**Lorraine: and that involves broken glass how?**  
B: he didnt have a plastic cup  
**Lorraine: OH MY GOD B HOW DID THE GLASS GET BROKEN???**  
B: you dont have to yell  
**Lorraine: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**  
B: we were outside letting the spider go and it crawled on me and he kind of crushed the cup  
B: with his metal hand  
**Lorraine: . . .**  
B: still there?  
**Lorraine: mom thinks you might have a concussion &wants to know what u hit ur head on**  
**Lorraine: dads says make sure u get a picture with the shield**  
B: i'm not hallucinating. i'll send a pic for proof  
B: oh and i'm pretty sure Bucky has read LoTR  
**Lorraine: how did that even come up in conversation?**  
**Lorraine: doesnt matter. thank u for telling me that**  
B: rly?  
**Lorraine: really:) have fun with ur new neighbors!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I get caught up in writing the actions of what happens, that I forget to add more to the characters and I usually try to finish things all in one go. It's hard for me to walk away and then come back when I'm refreshed so I stress out and give up. I will try not to do that here.  
> The info on the seahorses came from National Geographic.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> ~LadyofGlassandBone


	3. Taking Care of Non-bipedal Creatures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A cat has absolute emotional honesty;human beings,for one reason or another,may hide their feelings,but a cat does not." -Ernest Hemingway
> 
> B's building has an unreliable elevator. Her workplace has a parrot. And the streets of New York aren't very kind. So,nothings really new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ernest Hemingway owned many polydactyl cats(meaning they have extra toes) and many of the descendants of his cats still live around his home in Florida. Look it up,it's cool. And so are polytactyl cats.
> 
> Sorry this took so long but I had a lot of appointments and family stuff and I didn't want to rush writing it just to get up another chapter. That being said,this isn't my favorite but I hope it's okay and not too long!

B's alarm gradually drags her out of sleep,shrill bell tones coming from across the room and atop her dresser. Forcing her to throw off the light sheet she had slept under and shamble over to hit snooze with the force of someone who is not and never will be a morning person.

She stands there for a few bleary moments,taking stock of how she feels this morning,watching the screen of her phone go dark. She's grumpy but that's usual for mornings. Hot,because it's Summer and she's never done well in the heat. 

There is a deep pull to just crawl back into bed and sleep because sleep is blissfully empty. No worrying.

_'No,you have to be at the store,you have to feed the animals.'_

She picks up her phone and walks to the bathroom,lighting up the screen to double check the time. The photo that stares up at her from behind the clock is from her recent trip home,of her nieces,and it helps to dissipate the somber feelings hanging around her.

The numbers read 7:12AM.

B is dressed and out the door,sticking a Poptart in her purse for later,by seven-thirty. She has on sneakers that have curved to the shape of her feet,denim capri's with patches sewn into the inner thighs,and a pale blue tee shirt that claims she works at Frank and Deb's Pet Shop. Her name-tag is in her pocket.

She smiles at the other neighbors up and out at this hour but doesn't return their 'good mornings.' Everyday she tells herself she will,that it's what people do. Normal. But the syllables never make it passed her nerves.

Today isn't any different. Except that the elevator has the well used 'Out of Order' sign taped on it.

It's only three floors,really,and she's climbed and descended much more treacherous terrain than a few flights of stairs.

_'Remember B,you can get through a regular day. You do it all the time.'_

B takes the first flight quickly,enthusiastically,then recalls that she isn't that athletic and never has been. So she goes at a much more timid pace until she reaches the bottom. She has to put a little extra muscle behind opening the stairwell door and then she's free.

_'Jesus,why do they make those things harder to move than Excalibur?'_

"Hey B."

The voice catches her off guard as well as her name,which not many of the other tenants know except Ms. Otero and-

"Hi Steve," her sneakers squeak to a sudden stop and she hopes her voice doesn't sound like she's being throttled.

Steve is standing in front of her and sure he and Bucky had both knocked on her door at least once,each,to check on how her foot was healing but the last time had been more than a week ago. Now he's just. . .there. All sweaty,shirt sticking where it's damp with sweat and the roots of his blond hair are dark with it as well.

"Early run?" she asks,feels her empty stomach constrict around nothing because duh,it was obvious.

"Yeah,always early but it's better in the Summer,do it before it starts to boil," he agrees,eyes dropping to the front of her shirt.

_'NO. He did not check out your boobs. N-O. He's probably gonna ask about where you work.'_

"You work at a pet shop?"

_'SEE. He just read what was on your boobs. On your shirt.'_

"Yeah,small place,nice owners," she offers,this is territory she can traverse "they work with a lot of local shelters,housing and adopting out animals from those shelters."

"That is something I can picture you doin' Doll," this time it's Bucky's voice and she leans around Steve to see him just inside the door and frak,if Steve had made her nervous then Bucky makes her outright skittish.

He's got the same sweaty-ness as Steve but what does her in is the bun his sweat darkened hair is in. She can see all of his face now,every angle and bit of scruff and-

_'SAY SOMETHING BACK. NOW. Before it gets awkward!'_

"What can you picture me doing?," and no,it doesn't diffuse the potential awkward bomb. In fact,it slams down on the big red button and BOOM. She can tell by the smirk on his face that he knows it too. 

Hell,Steve's even trying not to laugh,slowly slinking his way toward the stairs like a dog that's hoping not to be noticed and scolded.

"Taking care of animals," Bucky clarifies,walking over to her "ya know,since ya nearly beat down a strangers door just to save a spider,it's easy to imagine you takin' care of other things that walk on more than two legs."

"Oh,thanks," she shuffles her feet,tries not to look at his arms now that he's in a tee shirt, and ends up glancing at her watch as she twists her hand around her purse strap.

"Fudge! Sorry,I have to go,see ya later," she says to Bucky and tosses a 'bye Steve!' over her shoulder to where he stands halfway through the stairwell door and then she's gone. Jogging out onto the sidewalk.

"Did she just say 'fudge'?" Bucky turns to his friend,eyebrow quirked in confusion.

"Yeah,well she did say she has nieces,so," the Captain shrugs.

"But you heard her when she cut up her foot,and then the other day through the kitchen wall,she obviously ain't got a problem with cussing out a kitchen appliance," he explains,walking over to follow Steve into the low-lit stairwell.

"Don't strain yourself over it Buck," Steve mock warns him.

"I ain't! It's just-,"

"You like hearin' her swear?" Steve supplies.

Bucky stops cold on the steps and Steve looks back at him,watches him frown like he's sorting out tactical problems for a difficult mission.

"Punk,I'm giving you a three second head start before I-,"

He doesn't finish the warning before Steve takes off up the stairs. Bucky pursues,trying to leave behind what Steve said about B.  
                                                                           ----------------------------------------------------------

Frank and Deb Sanger have one child,who is currently living on the Hawaiian island of Kauai, studying the marine life that lives in the surrounding waters. When Frank first told B about his son,during her job interview,he'd said that taking care of animals must run in the family. His tone of voice suggested that he had no idea how that could possibly be.

As if he hadn't been surrounded by shelves of various pet foods,toys,and a plethora of other things needed to care for everything from dogs to lizards. The Green-Winged Macaw resting pleasantly on his shoulder had studied B first with one eye and then the other,almost like it was waiting for her reaction,to see if it would be correct.

'It must be a real mystery,' she'd answered, looking more to the Macaw than to the older man in charge of deciding whether or not she would get the job.

The answer was correct,it seems,since she is now the one standing among the shelves with the Macaw on one shoulder,sweeping a well worn broom over the linoleum floor.  
Ethel,the feathered creature occupying her right shoulder,eases along with the motions of B's sweeping. The bird is around 28 years into her life and not much seems to bother her here in the shop.

Though she does protest mildly when taken too close to the reptiles.

"Hello," the bird says,shifting about on her current human perch,making B look up and over to the entrance. The door remains shut.

"False alarm Ethel,we talked about this," B sighs in fake disappointment,returning to her sweeping. 

_'Never underestimate how much fur can gather in just one day.'_

Ethel plucks gently at B's hair with her beak,pulling a few strands free of the bun it's tucked up in.

"Thank you Ethel," she tells the bird,smile in her voice,and runs the bristles of the broom underneath the edge of a shelf.

Deborah Sanger,Deb to her friends,watches the exchange with grin. Ethel takes to each employee differently and on her own time and though she had pestered B by pulling at her hair when the girl had first started,B would just smile and redo her hair each time without objection.

Now Ethel does it less frequently and more affectionately.

B has never garnered any complaints from customers. Never called in sick,even on the days when she'd clearly been ill. Neither Frank nor herself has ever had to remind her of the no cellphone rule. She dotes on the animals that come through here,all of them equally,but maybe even more so on the ones that aren't adopted as quickly.

She's worked here three years and Deb is no closer to figuring the girl out despite seeing the unfathomable love and care B has for each animal that lays eyes on her,and the way she pulls that part of herself into hiding when dealing with people. Even the one's she's known for three years.

"So how are things with you B?" Deb inquires,pulling the shop keys from her pocket,heading to lock the front doors.

"Okay."

It's not always the same answer,sometimes it's 'good' or 'fine.' No details. No grumbling about family or friends or her love life.

"Nothing exciting happening?" Deb moves from the entrance,keys jingling,to the cash register and begins clearing that out for the night.

"Not really," B shrugs simply,pulling out the garbage bag she'd just dumped her sweepings into,ties it and carries it to the lip of the back hall.

"Is there anything else you need me to do?" she asks,idly scratching Ethel's chest in a manner that makes the bird croak softly in appreciation.

"No,we're all good for today," Deb smiles at the girl "though you might have to pry Ethel off you."

"Yeah," B chuckles,looking over at the Macaw to see her small eyes closed.

She walks slowly back to the counter,behind which stands Ethel's inanimate perch,and eases her off onto the glass top beside where Deb is working. Ethel flaps her wings halfheartedly before strutting over to climb her perch.

One green wingtip had been take off,while the other is even shorter. Frank said that the rescue he'd adopted her from had done their best to heal whatever had been done to mangle her, though none of it seems to bother Ethel much anymore.

B glimpses over at her boss,watching the dark skinned woman going through the process of securing the front counter and considers asking her the questions that have been knocking around her skull since this morning. 

_'No,don't ask your boss about boys,that's what moms and sisters are for. You have those in abundance.'_

"I'll take the garbage on my way out," she backs away from the counter,detouring around to pass the reptiles,all of which are contently slumbering or slithering happily in their warm tanks. 

"Alright,goodnight B," Deb calls and B returns it with a little wave,garbage bag in the opposite hand, shoulders hunched. 

Deb can only wonder what makes a girl with that good of a heart curl in on herself like she means to go as unnoticed as possible.                                                                             -------------------------------------------------

B can see the lump of fur near the edge of the curb from a good distance away. She grew up in the country and is no stranger to roadkill of all kinds,in different states of decomposition.

When she gets close enough to discern it's a cat with calico colored fur,her mouth goes dry. And there's an even smaller bundle of fur near her head,speckled with blood like it's mother. Both of them stiff with death.

_'Go. Walk. Don't look anymore,you can't help,it's too late,they're-'_

B stops,the scuffing of her dragging her feet now gone,the few people out walking around her go on so she steps closer to the buildings on her right,listening. 

_'Be sure you heard it. Be really sure if you didn't.'_

A few heartbeats go by before she hears it again. The desperate,high meowing of kittens left too long alone.

"Fuck," B turns and marches into the thin space between buildings,listening as the cries get louder, searching for a place a mother cat would pick to move her kittens to.

It turns out to be behind a stack of old palettes leaned against the building and the wall that ends the alley,where trash has wedged itself,as well as a box turned on it's side. It's shoved all the way back into the corner.

B can make out three moving bodies,one that's the smallest,curled up and maybe breathing. Hopefully.

"It's gonna be a long day huh guys?," she asks in a sigh and begins tugging out the garbage that blocks her way to the yowling felines.

B doesn't return home until well past one in the morning.

She has done a lot of waiting,asking,more waiting and then some paperwork in the past few hours. But now she's trudging up the stairs of her building,doing her best not to jostle the carrier box that is blessedly quiet.

On her floor,she passes the 'Out of Order' emblazoned elevator with a glare and her steps get less careful. She can see her door,hurries toward it and the comfort behind it,setting down the bag full of essentials to grapple one handed with her keys and unlock the door.

She pushes it open with her foot,grabbing up the plastic bag,her couch is practically calling to her-

"B?"

"Yes?," she wants to yell it,because today she's had enough of people asking her things, enough of people in general,that it would be a relief to just yell. But she's never had the courage to actually do it before. She doesn't now either.

"You alright?"

B looks over,registering the voice as Bucky. He's in sweatpants and a white tee,barefoot, looking like he should be in bed but can't sleep. She's familiar with that feeling.

"Uh,define alright?" she turns toward him with a sigh,dropping the plastic bag just inside her door.

"What happened?," Bucky steps out of his door into the hall,letting it shut,and studies her. He's second guessing his decision to come out and see her just a little. But hell,he was already awake anyway.

"Found a dead cat today,she had kittens,now they're my kittens,well,foster kittens,that need to be hand fed every few hours and I have no idea how that is gonna work cause I have a job but,oh well,I asked for it."

Bucky just blinks at her rush of words,considers saying one thing then decides on another.

"Shit. Sorry. How many kittens?," he eyes the box more carefully.

"Five,one was killed with the mother,one is a runt,she had to stay at the vets," she looks down at the carrier,her finger tightening around the cardboard handle,then looks back up at her neighbor with an expression that's too serene to be genuine. 

"So I only have the three amigos with me now," she's not quite smiling as she says it.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"No,it's late,you don't have to stay up and-," she tries to wave off his offer but he presses on.

"I was already awake Doll,wasn't plannin' on going to sleep anytime soon either," Bucky crosses his arms and steps closer.

B stares at the metal plates of his arm as they shift,too far past caring and finds it immensely interesting.

"Fine,but seriously,don't feel like you have to stay any longer than you want," she points a finger straight at him and he nods. She thinks he looks pleased and she has to turn away into her apartment to escape the feelings that gives her.

Bucky follows,admittedly eager to see what her place looks like.

She has posters up on most of the available wall space but they're the large ones,like from a theater and seem to be placed apart just so. They don't feel cluttered,like a teenagers bedroom.

There's a fair amount of Star Wars,old and new. A map of Middle Earth. Some from that zombie show. A few of Batman,and one with some animated dragons on it.

Her couch looks worn,as does her table and mismatched chairs. There's a desk piled with notebooks,mugs full of pens,a laptop,and loose sheets of paper that have been typed and scribbled on.

Bucky nudges the door shut behind himself,shifting at least one of the locks home,and turns to B. She sets the box of kittens on the table,opens the top to peek inside and relaxes visibly.

"They're asleep so I'm gonna get out of my work clothes and then unpack their stuff," she says after shutting the box and her eyes land on Bucky. She doesn't really seem to know what to do with him.

"Uh,you can," she motions him further in to her home,making full use of both her arms. It's awkward and somehow cute.

"You have a way with words Doll," he strides over to the table,stops beside the box,and observes the blush that just barely appears on her cheeks every time he uses the nickname. She hasn't said anything about it yet.

"Whatever,just don't-," and she motions with just her hands now,like she's shooing away his tease "-break my foster kittens or anything."

"I'll do my best,now you can go get outta your clothes," he shoos back at her with a smirk.

B simply turns and heads to her room,shaking her head. 

_'How did they pick the apartment next to mine? Why? What made them choose this building?'_

She's still unsure if it's good luck or bad that landed the two soldiers next to her.

Bucky doesn't want to chance waking up the kittens he hasn't actually seen,so he backtracks to the kitchen just behind him. He grins when he sees the toaster,having heard B cursing the thing out in great detail.

There are some mismatched mugs in the drying rack that catch his eye. A large yellow one with a bee on the top of the handle and a bear in a red shirt on the sides. Another is completely covered with painted images of wolves. One is all red,with words in large script asking 'Do I look like a people person?'

Her fridge would suggest she has kids,being covered with coloring pages,random drawings, and even the odd page of graded homework. He collects three names,all in varying stages of wobbly children's handwriting. Fiona,Joy,and Sadie.

The one's that are signed are made out to Aunt B. A few have it written as Bee.

"My sister says they like mailing things to me," B says from behind him and he looks over his shoulder to see her in a large tee shirt that skirts around the middle of her thighs. And nothing on her legs.

"I noticed," and his eyes remain on her legs. There's a mole on the top of her right thigh that he hadn't noticed before. 

"You did tell me to go get outta my clothes,right?," she jabs when his eyes don't travel back up from her legs. At her words they snap up to her face,looking a little dumbstruck.

She pulls up the hem of the shirt to revel a pair of light blue pajama shorts. 

'So she does bite back,' is all Bucky can think before she drops the fabric back into place and moves around him to grab a mug(the wolf one)and fill it with water. 

_'Oh God I can't believe I did that. He's totally gonna make me regret I ever did that. Shit.'_

"So,ever hand fed a kitten?" she asks over her shoulder as she walks back to the table,setting the mug down and easing open the box.

"Does it look like I have?" he means for it to be a joke but she just tilts her head at him.

"Well,does it look like I use to handle horses?"

"Not. . .really?" Bucky says this carefully,making his way over to her side. He can sort of imagine her standing next to a horse but from his brief interactions with her,B seems rather timid to be in charge of a horse. 

Not that he knows much about horses himself.

"Exactly. If a wallflower like me can handle a thousand pound horse,then someone as muscle-y as you can possibly have hand fed a kitten," she wriggles her fingers at him on the word 'muscle-y' and he's absolutely adding 'talks with her hands' to the list of things he knows about her.

"Point taken," Bucky agrees,leaning over the open box to see a pile of multi-colored fluff on a blue blanket. He can't safely pick out where each kitten ends and begins.

"Two girls and a boy," B says,leaving Bucky to watch the small felines while she goes to grab the bag by the door.

"The vet said they're about a week old,so they're still kinda blind and deaf to the world and we have to feed them replacement formula so they can get enough colostrum to keep from getting infections," she's over by the couch now,pulling out the contents one by one,explaining as she goes.

"I already have their weights from the vet so I can make sure they don't get overfed or underfed and it'll have to be about every four hours and as they get older,they'll eat more but less often. And I'll show you when we actually feed them,how to hold them,basically though you have to keep them upright or it'll aspirate the formula into it's lungs."  
B stops talking to study the container of what Bucky guesses to be the formula. He has to ask.

"Where did you learn all this?"

"I use to volunteer in a shelter back home for a while," she keeps scanning the label in her hands.

"And the horse handling?"

"Volunteer stuff," she mumbles.

"Did you go to school for any a this?"

"No,why?" now she looks up at him,brows still drawn together,a little defensive.

"Cause there's some things you just can't learn from volunteering."

"There's a lot you can learn from volunteering," and there's a hint of steel in her voice,an edge Bucky's never heard before. 

"Alright," he surrenders "I was just askin' Doll."

The nickname makes her face flush that pale pink color again and she goes back to pulling things from the bag in front of her.

There's a long silence where Bucky looks back down at the kittens all smushed together in the box,trying not to stare back up at B. He cheats a few times before he finally speaks.

"I think it's great that you know all this," he admits "if someone had asked me to take care a these guys,I wouldn't have known where to start."

"You could've looked it all up on the internet,"

"I'm in my nineties,you think I'd be able to even turn on a computer?"

"Bucky,you-," she's about to scold him,her tone caring but he stops her.

"See how that sounds? Boilin' your own skills down to something just anyone could do? B,I ain't even seen you do much besides catch a spider and I know for sure you can do a million an' one things I can't." 

B has dealt with her horrible self-esteem for as long as she can remember. The social anxiety. Depression. And she has a tendency to not give herself credit,even for the simplest things.

Bucky is the first person,outside of the counselor she'd had back home,to recognize it,and call her out on it.

"Sor-," she almost apologizes,still a little shocked at what Bucky just said. She's fumbles with what to say back.

"Um,thanks-thank you,for-," she stops to take a deep breath "no one really says stuff like that to me."

"They should," Bucky states matter of factly,staring right at her for a few frantic beats of her heart.

"So what do you need me to do?" he clears his throat,shifting on his feet.

"We can mix the formula ahead of time and I need towels and cotton balls,unless I have gauze,which I probably don't," B slips back into her more confident tone,walking around to the hallway.

"Why do you need gauze?" Bucky follows more tentatively despite her welcoming gesture earlier.

"Kittens can't eliminate waste on their own,and since the mom isn't here to stimulate that reflex,we have to. Me. I can do that. You don't have to," she turns abruptly,eyes wide and keeps talking

"You use a cotton ball or gauze,wet it with warm water and-,"

"I think I got the picture," he leans over her a bit. He's starting to recognize that her voice can get a little frantic when she talks about some things. Like with the seahorses.

"Right," she huffs,swinging back around and into what appears to be the bathroom,shuffles around inside,then emerges victoriously holding a Ziploc full of cotton balls.

"Towels are in the closet," she points over his shoulder "the ones on the bottom shelf are my older ones."

"How many do we need?"

"All of 'em please," this makes Bucky lifts a brow in question.

"Just in case," she pats his metal arm on her way passed "animals can be messy Barnes!"  
                                                                              -----------------------------------------------

B is pretty sure she's never seen anything cuter than what is currently taking place on her couch.

It's around five o'clock in the morning and there are two happily fed kittens in her lap,curling themselves around each other in the blue blanket Dr. Rosings had given them.

But what has her smiling so big her face hurts is that the man sitting next to her,Bucky Barnes,Howling Commando,ex-Winter Soldier,has fallen asleep on her couch with the third kitten curled up in the curve of his neck,being partially blanketed by his dark hair.

As soon as the kittens had began to cry hungrily at around four,B had instructed Bucky in the art of feeding the squirming kitten with one of the syringes she'd brought home. Watching the whole thing had been almost as cute as when she'd finished with the last kitten and turned to see how Bucky was fairing with the grey and white one and found them both asleep. 

She's not sure how long she's sat staring or how long until it becomes officially creepy.

_'TAKE PICTURES. This is very picture worthy.'_

B gathers the blanket around the kittens in her lap,pulling their box on the floor closer with her feet so she can set them inside.

Her legs are stiff when she rises and she has to stretch them as she walks down into her room to retrieve her phone. There are a few messages from an unknown number that she deletes without reading. They show up every once in a while for a few weeks and always receive the same treatment every time.

Unopened and deleted.

B has just snapped the first picture when there's a tentative but firm knock on her door. She's looking at Bucky through her phones camera,surprised that he doesn't move an inch. She drops her phone on the couch next to him.

Upon reaching the door she notes that her deadbolt is in place but doesn't recall locking it. Bucky had closed the door last night. This morning. Whatever.

"Steve," she jolts upon opening the door,surprised to see him.

"Hi B,uh,I'm sorry for knockin' on your door so early but,you haven't seen Bucky have you?" he asks,turning his phone over in his hands nervously.

Oh. Now she's not so surprised.

"Yeah,he's here. I got in late and he must've heard me,said he was already up,"

"So he came over here?" Steve clarifies.

"Yeah,"

"And stayed all night?"

"Yup,I told him he didn't have to help or stay any longer than he wanted to but," she shrugs

"Uh-huh," Steve's giving her look that's a little slack jawed.

"He's asleep on the couch,if you want to wake him up,I don't know how he is with being woken up. . .," she trails off,not sure where she's going with it.

She had read the files Black Widow had dumped on the web. Her brother had collected and saved many of them to send to her. Some had been more than a little hard to read.

Steve just nods and B steps back,pushing the door open further to let him in.

_'When did this become normal? 'Oh hey Captain America,yeah,your best friend spent the night in my apartment,come in won't you?'_

"Oh my God," she blurts out,feeling like an idiot.

"What?" Steve stops,half turns to look at her,body tensed and alert.

"I found kittens last night. Their mother got hit by a car and they have to be hand fed and Bucky offered to help. That's why he came over. Not-it wasn't anything like- never mind," B attempts to keep the whine out of the her tone,slapping both hands over her face.

She is really tired and it is really early and she still has to call Deb or Frank and she wants to check in on Runt and ugh.

"That explains why Bucky has a kitten on his shoulder," Steve chuckles,relaxing.

"Oh,yeah,I can get her," B shuts the door,hurrying over and around the large man standing in her living room to sit beside the just as big man on her couch.

"Wait," Steve holds up a hand and B freezes "did you get a picture?"

"Of course I did," she rolls her eyes,leaning over to brush away Bucky's hair to get to the kitten,trying to avoid contact with his skin.

_'Don't think about how soft his hair is. Don't be a weirdo.'_

"You're gonna be sending me that picture," he informs her in the lightest tone she's heard from him yet and with kitten in hand she looks up at Steve. The smile he's wearing radiates over his whole face and it's aimed at Bucky.

"Does he sleep okay? Ugh,sorry,you don't have to answer,it's not my business," B shakes her head,slipping down off the couch and onto the floor beside the box where she places the kitten with her siblings.

"No,it's alright. He's doing better than before," Steve admits slowly.

B doesn't know what 'before' was like and she won't ask.

"There are times when it's worse,'' he continues,using 'it' as a catch all. Explaining would take too long and really,it's not his to be explaining. If Bucky wants B to know,he'll tell her.

Though,looking down at the woman who's swimming in a dark blue tee with faded print on it that insists 'this guy needs a beer',he suspects she might perceive more than he thinks. Her green eyes sometimes have a look in them that reminds him of Natasha,just a little.

"He can stay,to sleep as long as he needs too. I have to call in to work for today anyway and I'm sure he won't mind helping to feed these guys again," she nods to the kittens.

"That would be," Steve mulls it over quickly,spots her phone on the couch "good. If you're sure it's not any trouble."

"It's okay,promise. I know how important sleep is," she assures him.

Steve leaves a few minutes later,having traded numbers with B (and also slipped in Bucky's while he'd had the chance) and in the few steps it takes to get inside the door to his apartment,his phone is buzzing,letting him know he has a message.

He opens it to see the picture B promised of Bucky and the kitten with **this picture is now a national treasure and must be protected at all costs** typed beneath it. He saves the image with a grin.

Steve hasn't found it in him to have a background check done on B. He's not sure he wants to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've only ever taken care of kittens,personally,once and even then it wasn't very hands on because they had their mom. All the stuff about hand feeding kittens I collected from the grand ole' Internet so if anything is incorrect,let me know so I can fix it! If anyone out there owns a Macaw,or a bird in general,and has any advice on how to best portray them in writing,that would be immensely helpful. Also,always consult your veterinarian for the care of your animals. 'Cause I am not a professional. Obviously.  
> Plus,if anyone has any ideas for names for the miniature felines,I would love to hear them!
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> ~LadyofGlassandBone


End file.
